The Swan Dive
by woodnotes
Summary: After Provenance the boys split up to deal with a case each. Dean heads to Georgia to investigate some strange drownings, and ends up finding something more than he had expected. Dean, OFC.
1. Chapter 1: Aquatic Nocturne

**Title:** The Swan Dive  
**Characters: **Dean Winchester, Heaven Johansen (OFC), a side of Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer  
**Summary: **After _Provenance _the boys find two possible hunts, and realize there's not time to work both. They decide to split up to take care of both cases, and Dean ends up finding something more than he had expected.  
**Rating:** I find it difficult to rate this fic, but there will be some minor sexual themes (in which case there will be a warning beforehand), possible language and mild violence.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural or the Winchesters. You can thank Eric Kripke for that. I do however own my writing, my own ideas and my own characters. The chapter titles are adapted from names of poems by Sylvia Plath.

This is my first attempt of _really_ writing Dean. I've only written very short bits out of his point of view before, seeing as I normally prefer to write Sam. I get Sam on a whole other level than I get Dean, so I hope I can make this believable. Be gentle.

* * *

**THE SWAN DIVE**

**

* * *

****Chapter 1 – Aquatic Nocturne**

* * *

The night air found its way inside Karen's lungs, cool, leaving her slightly breathless. Maybe she shouldn't have left the house at this hour, but she needed a break. They'd had another stupid argument. She found it difficult to understand how things had changed quickly. They'd been married for three years, four months and eight days now. She'd counted. The time when they had been happy, Rob and her, seemed a lifetime ago.

It seemed they couldn't even have a decent discussion anymore, without ending up in a huge fight complete with slamming doors and shouting and tears. Tonight it had been even sillier than usual. There was some stupid baseball game he wanted to watch, instead of spending time with her and watch a movie, like they had decided. When she'd let him know how she felt he'd yelled at her, called her a nagging bitch. That was when Karen had had enough and ran out the front door, salty tears streaming down her face.

She had been wandering around aimlessly for almost two hours, which had given her a chance to calm down. Fair to say, she was regretting her decision of running off. She only had a vague idea of where she was, her feet were aching and she didn't have her phone with her. On top of everything, it was starting to get cold. She shivered and wrapped her sweater tighter around her, silently wishing she'd thought of bringing a jacket. A quick glance at her watch told her that it was almost midnight. She should make her way back home. She should try to work things out with Rob.

Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of a step. She thought she'd heard a noise. She looked around for a moment. She was surrounded by forest, and she knew she was near the lake, which was pretty much the only thing she knew about her current whereabouts. The forest didn't scare her, it never had. When she had been a child, the forest had been like a second home to her. She'd used to play there with a friend of hers.

She couldn't hear any noises anymore. Everything was still and quiet, except for the crickets in the grass. Karen knew she should turn around, go back the same way she'd come from. She was about to do just that when she heard a noise again. She heard a faint melody in the distance. Was that someone singing, or playing an instrument, maybe? Without quite knowing why, the melody intrigued Karen. There was something alluring about it. Something… Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Against better knowledge she followed the melody. It came from the left, down a path through the forest. The melody grew louder and louder as she walked the path, and she realized it was leading down to the lake. Who was at the lake at this hour? Maybe it was a couple having a romantic moonlight picnic, playing classic music on a portable radio? Or maybe there was a party? All Karen knew was that she had to find out.

She finally reached the lake. It was beautiful at night. A full moon was lighting up the sky and the stars were keeping it company. The light from the sky reflected onto the surface of the lake, completely black and still. She looked around and near the shore she saw a shape. It was the shape of a young man. She squinted, but realized she had to get closer if she wanted to see him better. Carefully she walked towards the man. She could hear the beautiful melody so clearly now. It was one of the most amazing things ever to find its way inside of her ears. The sound of a violin. He had to be playing it.

"Excuse me, sir?", she tried, but he didn't answer her.

Instead he walked towards the water, his feet in the water, leaving ripples on the otherwise still surface. It was like Karen was spellbound, moving by her own accord. Her steps were quicker and longer now, as the man walked further into the water.

"Hello?", she tried again. Still no answer.

The man turned his head a bit. In the moonlight she could see a smile playing on his lips before he dove into the water. The music stopped. Surprised, she reached the shoreline, waiting for him to come back up. But he never came back. Karen began to panic. Was he committing suicide? Drowning himself, holding his breath under water?

"Sir? Sir!", she yelled as she ran out into the water, desperately trying to find the shape somewhere under the surface, sans any luck.

What came next was completely unexpected. She didn't even realize what happened before she disappeared into the dark waters. The only remnant of her being a silent echo of a surprised scream accompanied by a splash among the trees in the adjacent forest.

* * *

"_Heaven, run!"_

Heaven Johansen's eyes opened wide and she shot up in her bed. She'd had the same nightmare she always had. After all these years… She couldn't get rid of it. Her father's voice still echoed in her head as she realized she was drenched in cold sweat. She let out a frustrated sigh and ran her hands through her hair. It was a mess, sticking to the sides of her face, just as the sheets were clinging to her sweat-drenched body.

She gave herself a moment to calm down, trying to steady her breathing, allowing for her pulse to settle to normal. A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand in next to her bed told her it was 4:30 am. Another sigh escaped her lips as she threw the covers off of her and got out of bed. Walking through the sleazy motel room she was staying in she headed towards the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the lights and bent over the sink. She washed her face with cold water, using the remnants of it to pull her hair back a bit. She used one of the stained towels to dry her face as she glanced in the mirror. She looked like a mess.

Heaven wasn't ugly. In fact, she was pretty damn far from it – indigo blue eyes, perfectly soft, light skin and gorgeous bone structure. Her face was framed by dirty blonde hair, normally in a sort of edgy, assymetrical bob with a longer sideswept fringe. But right now her hair was tousled by sleep, messy and slightly damp as she had ran her wet fingers through it and she was really pale. The few freckles on her nose annoyed her, they always had.

Her body wasn't exactly bad either. She wasn't a short girl by any means with her 5' 8". She had pretty nice curves, even if she thought so herself, breasts not too small nor too large, a long neck, a beautiful, distinguished collarbone, round hips and a pretty cute butt. She took care of her body, it was pretty much required in her line of work. If you could even call it work. She didn't get paid for it. But she still had to stay sharp, and in good condition, to avoid getting killed.

There was one thing Heaven didn't like about herself. Her name. _Heaven_. Her parents must have had a pretty horrible sense of humor. What kind of a name was _Heaven_? Especially for a hunter, it was kind of ironic. She'd heard every, single lame joke in the book about her name. And there was a lot where that came from, especially when some random douchebag threw some cheesy pick up line at her. The job allowed for her to use aliases, which she had fun with. Anything but her own name. Her surname, Johansen, was Norwegian, like her father. When he was young he'd come to the States which was when he met her American mother. Her light skin and distinct blue eyes were thanks to her father's genes, the dirty blonde hair from her mother's side. Heaven was their only child, and she vaguely remembered a time when they'd been a happy family. Thinking about her parents made her cringe. She tried to avoid thinking about them if it was possible. It was better that way. And it hurt less.

For as long as she could remember, Heaven had had troubles sleeping. She was a bit of an insomniac, but she refused to take sleeping pills if it was possible. She'd rather not sleep than stuff herself full of drugs. After all, she was used to the not-sleeping part of her life. Waking up after 4 am after only three hours of sleep was how she worked. Same with the tossing and turning and having nightmares about her past.

Heaven realized she wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again. The nightmare still haunted her mind. What she needed was some coffee and a new case.

With another sigh, she stripped out of her boyshorts and tank top and stepped into the shower. Once she was done, she got dressed ventured outside. She quickly managed to find a gas station that was open at the quite early – or late, depending on how you thought about it – hour. She bought a cup of coffee, along with two cans of Red Bull and two Snickers bars. She made a mental note to change her breakfast habits to something healthier.

Once she got back to the motel, she opened her laptop and went out on the web. She scanned through her usual sources, online newspapers and magazines until her eye caught something. Clayton, Georgia. A woman had turned up dead in the lake after being missing for sixteen hours. The cops deemed it as a drowning accident, but there was something about it that made Heaven's spidey-sense tingle. Maybe it was the fact that the husband was quoted, telling the paper that she had been a good swimmer. Heaven couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She started digging up old articles from the local paper and what she found confirmed her suspicions. There was definitely a possibility of something paranormal going on in that lake.

"_Son of a bitch_", she thought.

* * *

_Two days later – Clayton, Georgia_

"You sure you gonna be okay, Sammy?"

Dean Winchester slammed the door of his beloved 1967 Chevy Impala shut. It was more difficult than he had expected, seeing as his other hand was occupied. He was holding his cellphone to his ear, talking to his brother Sam on the other end.

"_Dude, I got this one covered. So far it seems like a pretty standard salt 'n' burn. Lemme worry 'bout me._"

Dean could practically sense Sam rolling his eyes while uttering those words. He sighed and gave up. "Alright. But you gotta call me if you need anythin', alright, bro? Any trouble at all, and you give me a call."

"_Sure"_, Sam said with a chuckle. "_So, how's Clayton?_"

"Not sure yet, just arrived. Seems like another shithole small town, about two thousand people or so. Dammit, why does all the shit go down in small town America? Can't anythin' ever happen in Hollywood? I'd love to save Angelina Jolie from some demons. Oh, or strippers!"

"_You wanna save Angelina Jolie from strippers?_", Sam asked, sounding clearly amused.

"No, dumbass. I want a case involving strippers", Dean retorted in frustration. He knew Sam had understood what he meant, but still the kid _had_ to tease him.

"_I'm sure you do. Anyhow, I gotta get to work. Take care, alright? Gimme a call if you need any help with the research or anythin'._"

"Sure. Look, kid, I'm not as dumb as you think, I can turn papers too", Dean commented.

"_I know, I know. I wasn't sayin' you couldn't._"

"I'll check in on you later, bitch."

"_Jerk_", came Sam's final response before he hang up.

Dean put his cellphone back in his pocket and looked around. It was a sunny day, and already pretty hot, even though it wasn't even quite noon yet. He'd already gotten a motel room, and had then been driving around for a moment, until he found a diner.

Finding diners was usually a good first move in small towns. Especially the older, wiser men in town hung out at the diner, and it was a good place to catch some gossip and stories if you bought them a cup of coffee or managed to gain their trust. The waitresses were usually pretty chatty too, especially if Dean threw in his trademark smirk, a bit of his charm and a few '_sweethearts_'. Hence, the diner was a good place to start.

When Sam had caught wind of the case in Clayton, they hadn't been sure it even was a case at first. A woman had turned up in Lake Rabun, seemingly because of a drowning accident. But the place where she had gone under hadn't exactly been deep. There were no stones or anything that could've made her slip. And she hadn't committed suicide, according to the police report.

Sam had done some digging, and what did you know, there had been strange deaths around the same area of the lake before, mainly women and children. All of them had had good swimming abilities, and no one had any clue about how they could've drowned just like that, without any particular cause. So the Winchesters had thought it best to check out the site, just to be safe.

Dean just hoped Lake Rabun wouldn't be another Lake Manitoc. Lake Manitoc Wisconsin was the case they'd worked a few months earlier, and in similarity to Lake Manitoc, Clayton used Lake Rabun as its water supply. If there was something paranormal in those waters, it was very possible it could spread to dry land through the pipes.

After locking the car, Dean put the keys in the pockets of his leather jacket. He made a mental note to leave the jacket in the car once he got back from the diner, it was way too hot to be wearing it. But Dean was fond of layers, even when it came to the warm days. He walked towards the diner, Suzy's. He guessed the owner was called Suzy. She was probably a sturdier, middle-aged woman in a silly pink waitress uniform and black shoes, a size too small. He'd seen too many of these diners and he knew what to expect.

A bell rang as he entered and closed the door behind him. Two older men were sitting at the counter, drinking coffee while eating a slice of apple pie each.

"_Awesome_", Dean thought.

He was pretty sure he could get the men to talk. There was nothing like bonding over a piece of pie. The fact that the men were in their late 50s was also good, seeing as they would've been around for a while, which meant they knew what had happened in the town over the past few decades at least.

Dean smiled to himself as a blonde middle-aged woman in a pink waitress uniform appeared in the doorway from the kitchen. How predictable. He could tell she had been pretty when she was young, but the years had taken their toll on her. She had gained more than a few pounds, and there were hints of grey in her hair. Dean took his jacket off and sat down at the counter, two seats away from one of the men. The waitress appeared in front of him, with a wide smile on her lips.

"Suzy, right?", Dean said and fired off his most handsome smile at the woman.

"That's right. What can I get ya, sugar?", she asked. Dean noticed a light flush on her cheeks. He still had it when it came to women.

"How 'bout a slice of that apple pie and some coffee?", Dean asked. "Looks delicious."

"It is", one of the older men interjected with a chuckle. Dean nodded at him.

"Sure thing, doll", Suzy said. "How d'you drink your coffee?"

"Black, thanks", Dean said and looked her in the eyes.

She quickly looked down in a coy manner while she poured him a cup of coffee. She then disappeared into the kitchen and came out only seconds later with a slice of apple pie and a small dessert fork. Dean dug in, and moaned his approval when there was a party in his mouth. The apple pie teased his tastebuds.

"It's good, innit?", the other man asked. "Suzy makes the best damn apple pie in the state."

"Sure is", Dean replied, his mouth still full.

"Oh, stop it, Steve. You're just saying that", said Suzy, blushed and looked at the guy called Steve.

Dean noticed he had rough hands, and a sort of weather-beaten look. Dean guessed he was an honest working man, probably outdoors. His hair was grey with tints of brown left, but most of it was hidden underneath the ball cap he was wearing. His friend was African-American, but had a similar air about him. Both of them looked like decent old men.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure Steve here's right. I've tried a lotta pies in Georgia, and this has to be the best one", Dean said and gave her a grin. He knew how to give compliments, even though he thought so himself.

Suzy _giggled_, and was accompanied by a mutual chuckle from Steve and his friend. "So, new in town, huh?", the African American man asked Dean.

"Yeah, I'm just passin' through", Dean explained.

He reached out a hand towards the men. "Samuel Cole", he introduced himself. It was one of his long-running aliases.

The men shook his hand. "I'm Joshua", the African American man said and then pointed at Steve. "And this ugly mofo over here is Steve."

"Nice to meet you both", Dean said with a nod and a smile.

"So, Samuel. What brings you to town?"

"I'm just in a roadtrip, I guess. Drivin' around. I'm a cop off duty, and I just needed a break from things. I thought this place seemed interesting."

Joshua chuckled. "If you're lookin' for interesting, you've come to the wrong town. Things are about as quiet as they get over here."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that. Didn't that woman drown here just last week? I remember readin' something about it in the local paper."

"You know, you're the second out of towner to come asking about Karen", Suzy interjected.

Dean turned his head to Suzy, surprised. "I am?", he asked.

"Yeah, she was just her, what's her name… Amelia somethin'", Steve said. He looked around in the diner. "Huh, I didn't even see her leave. You musta just missed her."

"Real pretty young woman. I've never seen eyes her color before", Joshua said and stared into the distance, trying to find the words. "Indigo blue, really deep."

"And real sweet and enthusiastic too. Said she was a journalist, looking after a story", Suzy explained. "I told her at what spot they found poor Karen and the others."

Dean didn't quite know what to make of the news about this Amelia character, being in town, asking about the deaths. Who knew, maybe she actually was a journalist. He needed to check it out later. But for now, something had caught his ear. "Others? You mean there have been other drownings?"

"Yeah", said Steve. "Seems almost like that particular spot at the shore of the lake is cursed or something. People keep turning up there, dead. Mostly women and children, for as long as I can remember. No one really knows why, s'not even a particularly dangerous spot. Not very deep."

"Huh", Dean said.

Dean had no idea that someone was eavesdropping on his conversation with Joshua, Steve and Suzy. The young woman who had introduced herself as Amelia was standing right behind the corner.

Heaven Johansen had taken a quick break to go to the bathroom, and when she came back, she had heard the guy talking to the locals. She'd taken a peak around the corner, and he was quite a good-looking guy. He seemed to be about her own age, maybe a year or two older. He'd been wearing a leather jacket, in spite of the hot weather. He was tall, around 6' 1", maybe, and had this sort of ruggedly handsome air about him. His hair was tousled and brown.

She'd listened quite carefully to their conversation, and she wondered who the guy was. He could be another hunter. She didn't believe his story about being on a roadtrip. She had done a significant amount of lying herself, enough to know when other people were lying. There was something that was off about Samuel Cole, if that was even his real name. And why would he almost immediately bring up Karen's drowning in the conversation? It wasn't exactly something you wanted to discuss over pie.

'Samuel Cole' got up up from his chair, left Suzy her tip and nodded a goodbye to Joshua and Steve. Heaven decided to follow him, just to make sure he wasn't going to get in her way. She needed to find out who this guy really was.


	2. Chapter 2: Dark Wood, Dark Water

**Chapter 2 – Dark Wood, Dark Water**

* * *

He had a sweet ride, 'Samuel Cole'. Heaven had immediately recognized his car as a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. A real beauty as far as cars were considered. Heaven knew her cars. In fact, they were a bit of a hobby of hers. She loved her own red 1969 Ford Mustang Shelby GT. As crazy as it sounded, her car was in fact the closest thing she had to a home. The car had belonged to her grandfather on her mother's side, and when he died a little after Heaven had turned 17, he had left her the car. She cherished it with her life.

She wrote down the number of his Kansas license plate, KAZ 2Y5, and then followed him as he drove through town and headed towards the lake, always keeping her distance, so he wouldn't notice being followed. She let him drive his car closer to the lake, and parked her own a bit further away, hidden among some trees. 'Samuel Cole' got out of his car and started walking a path through the forest. Heaven knew it lead down to the spot where Karen had drowned, the locals at the diner had given her directions.

She waited a few minutes before she got out of her own car. The only thing she brought with her was a digital system camera and with a telezoom lens. She had a friend who could help her identify 'Samuel Cole' if he was in any database. All she needed was a nice clear shot of his face. Heaven was planning on hitting two birds with one stone, follow the guy and get a shot of his face, while checking out the lake. After all, she _was_ working a case. She decided to not walk along the path the guy had taken down to the lake, instead she made her way through the forest. With ease she jumped over stones and passed branches, attempting to make as little noise as possible, until she finally reached the border between the trees and the beach.

She peaked out from behind the trees. The guy was looking around, along the shoreline and out over the lake. He then bent down to feel the temperature of the water. He then put on of the fingers he'd dipped into the lake inside his mouth, tasting the water. After that he shrugged and stood back up again. Heaven noted that he had left his leather jacket in the car. He had probably realized it wasn't exactly leather-jacket weather. She watched as he pulled something out of his pocket and she immediately raised her camera to use the lens and view-finder to see what it was.

"_I'll be damned_", she thought as she saw that he was holding an EMF meter. It was apparently home made, out of an old busted Walkman as far as she could tell.

Heaven snorted and shook her head. This guy had to be a hunter. Why else would would he be at the lake with an EMF meter? She faintly heard the beeping noise from the meter. It didn't detect enough of an electromagnetic field for there to be a spirit of some sorts at the lake. If there had been a spirit, the EMF would've gone off the charts. Heaven thought for a moment. It could still be a spirit. The lack of an electromagnetic field could be because of the spirit not being currently active at that particular spot at the lake. Maybe it only turned up at certain times. After all, it had been a week since Karen drowned. Heaven knew she'd have to do some research, see if there was a pattern to connect the drownings. She also needed to check if someone had died a mysterious death near that particular spot.

The guy was apparently thinking about something. He looked bummed when there was no EMF to speak of. Heaven raised her camera again and took a step forward. By accident she stepped on a branch, and it made a small cracking noise. Heaven cringed and froze in her position.

"_Please, don't let him have heard me, please, please…_", she thought, before she opened her eyes. "_Dammit, I shoulda been more careful…_"

'Samuel Cole' had tensed and was looking around. Heaven pulled her head back for a bit, and lowered the camera, out of fear of there being a flare from the lens for him to notice. His gaze stopped and Heaven realized he was looking at the exact spot she was standing at. For a moment it seemed almost as if he was staring right into her eyes. He furrowed his brow in confusion and suspicion, and took a step in her general direction. She knew he couldn't see her yet, but he would be able to if he came closer. Heaven's heart was pounding, and she realized she was almost panicking. Would she have time to make a run for it? How fast was he? She wasn't ready to meet him yet, not until she had found out who he really was.

Luckily for her, a bird flew out from among the trees right next to her head. The guy instantly relaxed and walked back towards the water after a few seconds. Heaven drew a deep breath of relief and calmed herself down. She breathed for a moment before she raised the camera again. The guy was walking along the shoreline, and she managed to get a few good shots. She'd have to return to do a more thorough check of the lake later, but for now, she had gotten what she'd come for. She decided it was best for her to return to her car and stay in it until the guy returned into town. She'd have to follow him again, find out where he was staying.

* * *

Heaven couldn't believe her luck. She'd followed the guy back into town, and straight to the motel where she was staying herself. It was definitely better that way, made it easier for her to keep tabs on the guy until she figured out what to do. For safety reasons, she decided not to use the motel parking lot. Her car wasn't exactly inconspicuous, and seeing as he apparently knew his classic cars, he might take unwanted notice to her car. Instead, she parked by the street two blocks away and walked back to the motel. He was down the porch from her own room, in room 19, only six rooms away. Heaven decided to enter her own room in a slightly more unconventional way, through the bathroom window, which was big enough and not too difficult to open if one knew what one was doing. She made sure she didn't damage the salt line she'd placed on the window sill as soon as she had arrived at the motel earlier that morning.

Heaven took her sweater off, leaving her in only a black tank top. She went to the bathroom to wash up and put on some fresh deodorant. She didn't want to risk smelling of sweat, seeing as it was so damn hot in Georgia. After that, she ate lunch, a hamburger she'd picked up on the way to the motel along with some Fanta.

"_I really gotta start a healthier diet…_", she thought as she ate. "_Ah well, maybe tomorrow._"

Heaven knew that wasn't going to happen. Junk food was way too convenient for a hunter. You never really stayed in one place that long, and it was cheap. She was on a limited budget, seeing as she didn't actually get paid for what she did. The warm, fuzzy feeling she got every time she managed to save someone had to be payment enough.

She opened her laptop and connected to the wireless Internet service the motel provided against sa small sum of money. She then picked up her cellphone and dialed a number.

After only three signals, she recognized Craig Garcia's voice on the other end. "_You never call me anymore. Don't you miss me at all?_"

Heaven couldn't help but to chuckle. "Hey there, Garcia. 'Course I miss you."

Her relationship with Craig Garcia was completely platonic. He was half-Hispanic, thirty something years old and operating out of Irvine, California. She had a theory about him being asexual. He just didn't have sex. Not with women and not with men. It just didn't interest him. Instead, he had an IQ of 176, and no interest to do anything conventional with it, like getting a top education. He enjoyed solving puzzles, testing his own limits, writing software and hacking. They'd known each other for a few years, and whenever Heaven needed any help that had to do with computers, Garcia was the one she contacted. He was one hell of a hacker, and he was her source when it came to identifying people who were in any kind of database. She made a mental note to have Garcia teach her the basics of hacking one day, just in case she'd need it some time when Garcia wasn't there to help her out.

"_No, you don't. Don't worry 'bout it, though._"

Garcia didn't sound too upset over the fact that they both knew he was right. Heaven didn't miss anyone. She didn't allow herself to do that. "You're right, I don't", she chuckled. "But I still love you. Anyways, why I'm calling… I'm kinda working a case, a–"

"_And you need my help._" He didn't even let her finish. He knew her too well. She only called when she needed something. And if he ever needed help, he called her.

"Yeah, I need help I.D'ing this guy", she said. "I'm e-mailing you a few photos as we speak, along with a license plate number. Would you mind checking with the DMW?"

"_Sure thing, Hev. Gimme ten minutes._" He hung up without another word. Heaven smiled to herself and then went to Google. She had some research to do while she was waiting.

Once her phone finally rang, exactly ten minutes later, Heaven was frustrated. She hadn't found any noticeable pattern between the drownings, unless you counted the fact that all of them were women and children. But there was no recognizeable time pattern, nor any other connection between the victims. She hadn't found any strange deaths either.

"_Yo, Hev_", Garcia greeted her on the other end. "_You owe me. I found your guy._"

"Really?", Heaven replied, and raised her eyebrows. He'd been quicker than usual this time.

"_You sound like you doubt my skills, woman._"

"Don't call me woman. And no, I don't doubt your skills. You're pretty damn awesome. But I thought it'd take longer for you to find somethin', if there was anything to, you know, actually find."

Garcia laughed sarcastically. "_Damn straight, I'm awesome. Anyways, I ran your guy's photo through the feds' facial recognition software. Name's Dean Winchester, at least in their database. Wanted for murder in St. Louis, presumably dead. I'll e-mail you a copy of the file._"

"Well, he ain't dead, that's for sure. Wait… Did you say Winchester?" Where had she heard that name before? She knew she'd seen it somewhere… And not just in relation to the rifle.

"_Sure did. And the license plate KAZ 2Y5…_"

"Yeah?"

"_Registered to a Mr. Hector Aframian._"

"Son of a bitch. Another damn alias. He's using Samuel Cole over here. He's gotta be a hunter."

"_Yeah, I dunno anythin' about that_", Garcia said. He knew what Heaven did for a living, and he was cool with it. But he didn't get involved in the hunting. "_You gotta figure that out yourself._"

"Yeah, I will. Thanks, Garcia. You're the man."

"_I know I am._" Heaven could tell he was smirking. He liked compliments way too much.

"Don't let that head of yours grow too big, though. Might not fit through the door", Heaven joked.

"_Yeah, yeah, promise. I'll talk to you later._"

"Sure thing. Thanks again, Garcia. Bye."

"_Bye. And Hev? Be careful._"

"You know me. I always am."

Garcia hung up and for a moment Heaven sat with her cellphone in her hand, staring into space. She was contemplating what to do next. So, Dean Winchester, huh? It was killing her that she couldn't remember where she'd heard his name before. Then she realized something and got out of her chair so quickly that a whif of air blew some of her papers and newspaper clippings onto the floor, but she didn't care. Instead, she rushed over to one of her duffel bags and dug around for a moment, before she pulled out a worn journal with leather covers. She flipped through the pages for a bit, before she found what she was looking for.

"_Son of a bitch_", she thought.

* * *

Dean hadn't been able to shake the feeling of being followed ever since the diner earlier that day. He couldn't explain the feeling, but he knew there was something off. When he was checking out the lake, he thought he'd heard something from the forest. His mind had been calmed for a moment when he'd seen a bird fly out of the woods in the exact spot where he thought the sound had come from. But he had practically been raised a soldier, and his mind and soul were the ones of a hunter, so he paid extra much attention to his surroundings after he got back to his car from the lake.

When he'd been driving back to town, he had noticed a red 1969 Ford Mustang Shelby GT – if he wasn't mistaken, and he never was when it came to classic cars – driving behind him. It kept its distance at all times, and Dean probably wouldn't have paid much attention to it if it hadn't been so noticeable, a real beauty when it came to cars. He remembered seeing that very same car before, but couldn't for the world remember where, until he realized it had been parked outside the diner when he was there earlier that day. He was pretty sure he was being tailed. But by whom? Then the realization struck him, it had to be that Amelia chick the locals had told him about.

Dean pretended like nothing, because he was in fact smarter than most people thought. He liked to put on an act, but truth was, Dean Winchester wasn't all looks and charm. Sam was the brains of the operation, he the muscle, but he knew how to think for himself. He got back to the motel, went to his room, had lunch. He waited for the Mustang to show up in the motel parking lot. It never did. That was when Dean began second-guessing himself. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it was just a mere coincidence. So, instead he shrugged and tried to do some research. He didn't know he was looking into the exact same things Heaven was looking into only six rooms down the porch. Research wasn't exactly his favourite part of the job, and most of the time he tried to get out of it by letting Sam, his geeky sidekick, handle the research while he did something more important, like eat or hang out with some random hot girl he'd picked up at a bar. But when he had to, Dean got the research done.

Dean didn't find any recognizeable patterns in the drownings either, nor any strange deaths. He almost pulled his hair in frustration. It being a sprit definitely would've been too easy. Now he had to do extra work. He needed to think up other plausible theories, maybe talk to someone who knew past drowning victims. He just knew he needed more to go on. For a moment he was tempted to call Sammy and ask for help, but he resisted. He wanted to show the kid that he, in fact, was able to crack a case without his brother's help.

Dean glanced at his watch and realized the sun had already set. It was nearing 6 pm and his stomach was growling. He sighed and took his jacket from the back of the chair, and left the room. He carefully locked the door, and checked that the salt line was intact before he walked over to his car. Before he got in he looked around the parking lot, trying to detect any suspicious movement or any people. When there was no sign of life, he relaxed and hopped inside the car. He felt safe behind the wheel of his baby. She was the only woman he'd ever trusted, besides his own mother and Cassie. But Cassie had never gotten his full trust.

Half an hour later, Dean returned to the motel. He had went to Suzy's and ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and some fries to go. When he turned the key in the lock, he got a strange feeling again, like something was off. He furrowed his brow for a moment and got inside. He took two steps before he thought he heard something. He froze in his spot, and was completely quiet. He even held his breath. For a moment he thought he'd been wrong, again, until he heard a faint sound of footsteps. They came from inside his bathroom.

He pulled his gun out of the waistline of his pants, and carefully he walked towards the bathroom, as he normally would walk, but he had the gun raised in front of him. He heard someone breathing in there, he was absolutely sure now.

He reached the bathroom door and reached his available hand out. The floorboards creaked underneath his feet and he silently cursed. Whoever or whatever was in there would now know he was coming. He pushed the door open in one swift movement. Everything happened so fast. A figure bolted from behind the door, towards the open bathroom window. The shape was fast, but Dean was faster. He managed to get hold of an arm, and pushed the person against the cool bathroom tiles.

In a fumbling effort, he tried to find a light switch, while the person he kept pinned against the wall tried to struggle out of his grip.

"Easy there, tiger", he commented and used a bit of force to keep the figure in place. The other person was petite, and Dean was frustrated he couldn't see properly in the dark. He could hear the other person's quick pants and pounding heart.

Then, finally, he found the switch and the bathroom bathed in light. He found himself staring into a woman's eyes, a pair of the most intriguing and beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, indigo blue and so incredibly deep. A quick scan of her body told him that she was hot, and about his own age. So, this was Amelia. He recalled the locals mentioning deep, indigo blue eyes.

"Let go of me", she said resolutely.

"Fat chance, miss", he said. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are and what you're doin' in my bathroom."

Before he knew what happened, a cocky grin rose to her lips. After that, he felt his feet lose contact with the floor as she tripped him. Within seconds he was lying flat on his back on the bathroom floor. "_Jesus Christ_", he thought. "_No chick's ever kicked my ass before. How embarrassing._"

The woman smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Try that again, punk."

"Sounds like a challenge", Dean retorted with a smirk of his own as he kicked her feet.

"Wow!", she yelped in surprise as she fell flat on her stomach with a loud thud.

She cringed and moaned in pain, and Dean knew the fall had hurt. Served her right for tripping him. Dean quickly used whatever leverage he could muster up with help from the bathroom floor to flip them both over. She was now pinned flat on her back between him and the bathroom floor. Dean grabbed her wrists, keeping her pinned against the floor. It would've been a pretty sexy situation if the circumstances had been different, Dean thought.

"So, you wanna tell me who you are now?", Dean asked.

"Why the heck would I tell you who I am?", she retorted, while her eyes frantically looked around, trying to find an escape. Dean knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Well, if you introduce yourself, I'll introduce myself", he said, allowing a playful grin to rise to his lips.

"Oh, c'mon", she smiled. "You have to make me a better offer, Dean Winchester."

Dean was confused and surprised. How the hell did she know who he was? "How'd you– But why– Huh?"

"Not so funny now, is it?", she asked, clearly amused.

Ooh, he so wanted to wipe that cocky grin off her face. "Let's try this again: Who. Are. You?", he said, deciding to ignore her knowledge of his identity. It was better not to confirm anything. "Simple question."

"Relax, Winchester. We're colleagues. My Dad knew your Dad."

"Dad? But how– What d'you mean, 'knew'? What's your name?" He was unable to hide his confusion, and it frustrated him to hell. He didn't like not being in control of the situation.

"I'm Heaven. Heaven Johansen. Nice to meet you."


End file.
